


An Open Door That’s Closing

by Queen of the Castle (queen_of_the_castle_77)



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Angst, F/M, Sexual Content, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-06
Updated: 2012-05-06
Packaged: 2017-11-04 22:13:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/398758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_of_the_castle_77/pseuds/Queen%20of%20the%20Castle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor knows he should turn around and walk back the way he came the moment he hears breathy panting from down the hallway, but the crack of dim light issuing from the bedroom door which has been left temptingly ajar is like an invitation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Open Door That’s Closing

**Author's Note:**

> Angsty smut as requested by kilodalton. Goes AU from the end of ‘Journey’s End’, with Ten II and Rose staying on the TARDIS with Ten.

The Doctor knows he should turn around and walk back the way he came the moment he hears breathy panting from down the hallway, but the crack of dim light issuing from the bedroom door which has been left temptingly ajar is like an invitation. It’s a siren song he can’t resist even though he knows the dangers inherent.

He clutches at the doorframe as he peers into the room, knowing in the back of his mind more or less what he’s about to see but still somehow unexpectedly startled when he’s actually confronted by it. His legs go slightly weak underneath him, and he slides slowly down the wall to his knees without ever losing sight of the two bodies entwined on the mattress.

He’s told Rose over and over again that he and the other Doctor are the same man in every way that matters. But how can that really be true when right now he can’t feel the softness of her skin under his fingertips even as he’s watching his own familiar hands sweep down her naked hips? 

There’s a peculiar sort of helplessness in watching as _he_ touches her just so, knowing that the Doctor can personally never do the same. Not now. She’s clearly made her choice, and he can’t (and won’t) interfere with that. Not when she looks so happy.

He’s seen her broad smiles and her mischievous grins any number of times, but he’s never before quite spied this expression of wonder that lights her face as she parts her thighs and clenches her fist in the other Doctor’s hair, directing him. He can’t deny himself the ability to just once observe this different but even more intriguing showing of her delight just because he won’t now ever be the cause of it.

The Doctor assures himself that this is what he’s always wanted for her anyway – for her to have a normal-ish man who can spend his whole lifetime devoted to her as she deserves – but having to actually see the reality of it play out right in front of him is still like a stab to the hearts. Contradictorily, his hearts actually race faster and faster the longer he spends unable to pry his eyes away. He feels so full of pent up energy that he’s practically vibrating in place.

The Doctor has barely noticed the first interested stirrings in his groin up until now, as intent as he’s been on watching. However, Rose’s moan as the other Doctor finally settles in exactly where she wants him abruptly jerks the Doctor’s cock into a proper kind of hardness that can’t be so easily ignored. He immediately reaches to adjust himself in his suddenly too-tight trousers. His hand has a life of its own, though, and instead of just efficiently making himself a little more comfortable, it slides over the outline of his erection, cupping it and stroking gently through the material, encouraging it into an even greater state of arousal. 

He watches the back of his own head dip as the other Doctor licks down the length of Rose. His breath hitches as the grip of his fingers simultaneously tightens on himself. 

When his fingers stumble across the cold metal of his zipper, he doesn’t even think about not opening it and liberating himself – the evidence so far suggests that his hands probably wouldn’t listen to reason anyway – but its slow descent is somehow more agonising than relieving.

As it should be. It’s bad enough that he’s watching them like this in the first place, but what he’s about to do is an even greater invasion of privacy, no matter that the Doctor is, in a sense, already a participant in what he’s surreptitiously viewing. It _should_ wound him at least a little to betray their trust this way. Every moment of it should be a kind of punishment.

The only problem with that is that the wrongness of what he’s doing only fuels him further. However enjoyable it is to feel his palm finally close around his freed cock and begin to pump in time with the accompanying soundtrack coming from inside that bedroom, the inner ache springing from his self-reproof at his actions is in its own way almost more powerfully exciting. This regeneration has always been a bit of a masochist, if he’s honest, and it’s no secret why; this body was defined in its conception by his need to belong to Rose Tyler, and everything about being in love with her has always hurt him just as much as it’s thrilled him.

From the moment he asked her to come on board the TARDIS there’s been a lurking knowledge that it would be far too much to ask for her to spend her forever with _him_ , no matter what she might promise him in the heat of the moment. 

He’s just not sure whether it hurts more or less that the person she’s ultimately chosen to be with instead is actually him – but still not _him_ – after all.

It certainly makes watching it without being directly a part of it both a more surreal and a more engaging experience. It’s almost possible, seeing himself touch her, to accept the illusion that he’s a part of the experience rather than merely peeking in from the outside, unwanted.

The Doctor swirls his thumb around the head of his cock and can easily imagine that the other Doctor’s tongue is doing much the same thing to Rose’s clitoris before vigorously sucking on it, just the way he himself would right now if only he had the chance. Rose certainly exclaims loudly enough that he might be doing exactly that. Her thighs clench around the other Doctor’s ears and her whole body seems to arch, pushing her hips frantically into his mouth. 

The Doctor watches – completely spellbound, and yet somehow never for a moment losing the rhythm of his strokes – as she climaxes. The sight of her pleasure burns itself into his mind. His name, “Doctor,” emerges from her mouth as a mixture of sigh and groan, and it’s enough to begin to undo him.

He hopes they’re too caught up in each other to hear his ragged gasps as he drives himself quickly to completion. At the very least Rose’s cries should be forceful enough to drown him out, for he’s not quite as loud when he inevitably follows Rose over the edge. He has just enough wherewithal to catch his release in his hand so as not to leave visible evidence of this transgression behind.

He slumps more fully against the wall, feeling too boneless and satisfied to quite feel the shame he knows will come later.

As Rose similarly relaxes into the sheets and the other Doctor slinks languorously up the length of her body, the Doctor is distantly aware that he should take this opportunity to drag himself away. Either of them could look up at any moment and catch a glimpse of him now that they’re less thoroughly distracted, and he knows he can’t let himself be caught. He can’t bear the sad way Rose would look at him, or her trying to explain her choice without hurting his feelings (though it’s years too late to avoid that eventuality, of course). Nor could he stand the knowing stare of the other Doctor, who undoubtedly would have been compelled to do much the same had their positions been reversed.

Still, he lingers for a few moments more despite the threat of discovery, for there’s one last thing he feels certain he has to see.

As the other Doctor settles on the bed beside Rose, their faces finally level, they kiss, sharing the taste of her between them. The Doctor can almost taste the sweetness of that moment himself. He’s certainly imagined and dreamed of it often enough.

More than the sex, this is what he really needs to witness and remember. The tenderness of the way they lean into and support one another as their mouths explore speaks volumes about why he should never allow himself to put this new relationship of theirs in jeopardy – why he must sneak off now without ever letting either of them know he was here – regardless of how much he might selfishly want more for himself.

He’ll never be responsible for wiping away even a portion of the pure contentedness he can see shining within Rose right now. No matter what.

He slips away down the hall towards the TARDIS console room, leaving the two of them cuddled together on the bed. In a very real way, he knows he leaves a part of himself behind with them.

~FIN~


End file.
